The Lion And His Lady
by ThievesOverBullies
Summary: AU- Lord Robin Locksley is a man with many secrets, one being he will get revenge on the man who caused his family so much pain. Lady Regina Mills, is the way to go about completing his plans. (Discontinued)
1. Chapter 1

_**(A/N-Thanks to Bekki for betaing this story. Appreciate is a lot! I hope you all enjoy the beginning of this tale. There will be smut, humor, smut, angst, did I mention smut? This is a time piece set back in time, during the times or Lords, Ladies, Knights.)**_

 _ ***No disclaimer needed as I helped create Outlaw Queen, not Adam or Eddie per the COWARDLY ADAM!***_

"Regina! Come downstairs immediately!" her aunt, Phoebe called to her.

Regina hurried downstairs to speak with her only living relative left. She had lost both her parents to a sickness that had swept through their household, Regina herself had only managed to live on. Only to awaken to the news that both her parents had not only died, but were already buried as well.

"Regina, you know your father was close to King William and at your father's dying request, you are now under the wardship of the King. He had directed me to talk to you of your future," Phoebe said.

"My future?" Regina asked.

"Are you aware, that after the King was crowned in England he gave a barony to your father in recompense for his long and faithful service to him?" Phoebe asked.

Regina nodded. That barony had been the anchor of her dreams, "Ravensely," she said.

"It is apparently a fine and prosperous parcel of properties centered close to one of the old Roman roads that run through England. The property is to be yours, Regina," Phoebe explained.

"Mine?" Regina asked, this was the answer to her prayers. She could finally have a good life, and take care of those who needed help as well, like her friend Tink and her family who were barely surviving right now.

"Technically, it will be your husband's, it goes to him on his wedding to you," Phoebe said. "The King has narrowed your potential husbands down to two men."

"Do...do I have to do this?" Regina asked.

"It was decided on the day you were born," Phoebe said.

"My lady, but I must have some say in who I am to wed," Regina said.

"The King will decide which of the two men you must marry," Phoebe said.

"Who are these two men?" Regina asked.

"The two are, Lord Blanchard and Lord Locksley," Phoebe explained.

Regina's stomach went sickly at the thought of Lord Leopold Blanchard as her husband. The man was a fiend! She had only been in his presence twice and both times he made her feel sick. When he had taken her hand and kissed it, she felt sick little shudders going through her.

Lord Locksley, she had heard of but had never seen. It was odd indeed that these two men were chosen. Lord Locksley's own sister had been married to Lord Blanchard, until she had died giving birth to her daughter. The baby had also later died, and Lord Blanchard had married a young girl named Eva who had managed to give him a daughter, whom he had sent off to live with her aunts.

Now, she would be forced to marry one of them. She looked at her aunt, "But, I just wanted my own life, a life in the country where I could stay for the rest of my life."

"I'm sorry, Regina but your future is set," Phoebe explained as Regina turned and ran out of the house. She headed towards the forest on the outskirts of the property. She hated how it seemed everyone else was always in control of her life. Never her!

She had to get out of that house! Away from those who wanted to control her. She decided to go to the spot where she collected herbs and such for medicines that she used to help treat some of the villagers when they fell sickly.

As she walked she glimpsed water through the trees. She went forward eagerly as she heard a large splash. Just a fish? Or some large animal? She moved forward more cautiously and peeped out from behind a stand of willow.

A man was swimming.

The smooth line of his back was clear, long, golden and slick with water. When he turned to swim towards the bank, she could see his face, but could make little of it. Young, though. But she'd guessed that from his body.

Still in deep water, he stopped swimming, stood and began to wade toward the bank. Regina gave a little sigh as his body was revealed bit by bit to her eyes.

His shoulders were broad and sinuously strong, sloping down into a hardened chest, had flaring rib ridges of muscles formed a perfect central cleft which was emphasized by the faint line of water darkened hair disappearing into the river.

Naked and a part of nature, he was like a perfectly formed wild animal.

He stopped with the water girdling his hips and raised his arms to run his hand through his hair. His shoulders stretched, and his upper body seemed to form a heart shape for her delight. She suppressed a breathy, "Oh!" He shook his head like a dog, sending spray to make diamonds in the sun.

He began to wade out of the water again, revealing more of his body, inch by inch...

Regina watched, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

He turned suddenly, as if alerted by a sound.

Regina turned away, horrified by her rampant curiosity and the disappointment she felt. She knew how a man was made. She'd taken care of many a sick man in the village.

This man was nothing like those men she had cared for. He was nothing like any man she had ever seen. She peeped back.

He stood like a statue, watching the far bank of the river. Regina followed his gaze and saw three russet hind prick their way delicately down to the water. They were alert for danger, but he stood so still they were unalarmed and dipped their heads to drink.

Regina looked back to the man.

If anything, his back was more breathtaking than his front. The smooth line from broad shoulders to hard buttocks was surely God's perfect work. The long valley of his spine could have been drawn by God's loving finger. She imagined running a finger from nape to cleft.

Regina shut her eyes and said a silent prayer..."deliver us from temptation..." but it was no good. She opened her eyes a slit.

He had not moved. He stood as still as a statue and just as god had made him. There was no sign of his rank, though she suspected he was English from his facial features and hair. Though it was darkened by water, his hair was blonde. He wasn't a peasant. He was too tall, too evenly and beautifully developed to be. It needed good food from birth and long years of training in a range of skills to develop a body like that-fluid, capable of wielding sword or an ax throughout a long battle, able to control a war-horse, climb walls, draw a bow.

Water from his hair formed rivulet in the cleft of his spine. It ran all down to his taut buttocks. Regina found herself catching those drops of water on her tongue, running her tongue up that sensuous valley to the nape of his back.

She clapped her hand over her mouth and shut her eyes. What a thing to think!

She heard something and opened her eyes. He was gone, leaving only ripples, an so were the deer. Had such a little noise alarmed them?

The spell was broken. Regina hurriedly retreated and leaned against a tree, weak, breathless and ashamed of herself How extraordinary and dream like that all had been, and how forbidden her thoughts has been. She would have to confess them.

She wouldn't dare!

Who could he have been? There were no noble englishmen left in the area. She could almost believe him of the fairy world, a river prince, a forest king. Hadn't she seen dark marks on his body which were surely magical?

She didn't dare investigate the river plants today. She might be enchanted and dragged down into the water to live a captive to a fairy prince.

It wasn't fear she felt.

To be such a man's captive.

She tiptoes from the river back towards her home. Safe from the fairies and her own wanton weakness.

She was seized. A hand clapped over her mouth. She was entangled in a cloak. In a second, Regina found herself pinned by strong arms with her back against her captor, silenced by a large, calloused hand.

Her fantasy had become terrifying reality, and this was no fairy prince. She struggled and tried to scream. He was a saxon! He would slit her throat.

He said something, she could not understand, but the gentle tone calmed her, and she stopped her futile struggle, though her heart still raced and tremors shook her.

He continued to speak in the soft, English. Looking as she did, he doubtless thought her one of the castle maids. She must keep up the pretense. He was surely an English outlaw, and if he realized she was Norman he would kill her.

It was hard to believe he was the enemy, however, for his soothing voice smoothed away her fears. The voice, the cloak, the heat of his body behind her, his arm around her, all made her spellbound, as he were casting a spell on her.

Perhaps he was.

Was he still naked? She imagined him naked behind her, his wonderful body separated from hers by only two layers of cloth. Trembles started which had nothing to do with fear.

Held as she was, she could see nothing of him, just the path ahead, ground kept her barren by the regular wearing of feet, the arch of trees in leaf, yellow and white flowers blooming among the undergrowth. She heard the singing of birds, the humming of insects, and murmur of his entrancing voice.

He said something else, and cautiously slid his hand from her lips. She licked her lips and tasted him upon them. His hand slid down her neck, then up again to gently press her head back against his chest. Still she could see nothing of him, but beneath her hair she felt cloth. It disappointed her that he was dressed. At that thought heat rose in her cheeks.

He laughed softly and murmured again as his hand stroked down her stretched neck like a trail of fire. Then it traveled further, to rest hot over her right breast. Regina gave a breathy moan. Even though her kirtle and the cloak she could feel the heat from the hand as if it lay against her bare skin. Her nipple swelled into a point of unbearable sensitivity, and his hand moved in slow butterfly circles as if he knew. She imagined that deep murmuring voice was speaking of love and sinful delights.

She ached with a need to respond, to reach up and hold his hand against her, to turn and kiss him, but she was caught in the cloak. She wanted to speak but dared not, for then he would know she was a Norman.

His right hand moved again, leaving her breast bereft. Now, following the path of her desire, it slid down to the juncture of her thighs, cupped and pressed her there. She made a wordless protest and moved back, but there was nowhere to go, and her sinful body did not really want to escape...not really. Instead she pressed against his hand, wanting want she knew his hand could give her.

She stifled a betraying plea even as her body moved against his hand.

He laughed and blew softly over her heated cheek.

Then he picked up his spells again as his hand slid up her body, over her left breast to her neck. His fingers trailed to her nape, and he lifted her heavy hair. The murmur of his voice stopped. The brush of his lips at her hairline trickled a shiver of delight down her spine as the river water had run down his.

His tongue against her skin was moist, hot, then cool as the breeze found the trail he left. He was doing as she had imagined and running his tongue down the top of her spine, but the moisture he would find there was not cold river water but hot perspiration.

Hot. So Hot!

A shudder passed through her, as if she was taken by a fever. The rumble of his laughter vibrated into her. She laughed too, enchanted into madness. She was going to speak, to turn, to seek the kiss she hungered for.

Then,"Farewell," he said.

He flipped the back of the cloak over her head. By the time she had disentangled herself, he was gone.

Regina collapsed on the ground. He was surely of the fairy world to be able to enhance her so. For all she knew that had been fairy language.

The garment in her hands told her he was human. Not a poor man's garment. Unlikely in an outlaw unless stolen, certainly not fairy.

She would like to keep it,but knew she would be questioned about it. So instead she left it there.

How sad that such a man was not for her.

As far as she knew, he was a prince of fairies. Such men didn't exist in the real world, the world from which she would have to choose her husband.

But still, she could not resist a prayer, that when she finally found herself in the marriage bed, her husband would touch her as the fairy prince had touched her, and take her to the end of the magical path he had opened from his hand.

As she walked back, she realized something about the fantasy man.

He had a mark on his right arm.

A mark of the lion.


	2. Chapter 2

**(Thank you Bekki for beta reading this, appreciate it a lot! And thank to all who read, review this.)**

 _ ***No disclaimer needed as I helped create Outlaw Queen, not Adam or Eddie per the COWARDLY ADAM!***_

Robin of Locksley chuckled as he escaped. When he had been ambushed by the secret watcher, he had not expected to find such a delicious armful. He wished he had been able to pursue the matter further, a great deal further. She had a lovely, luscious body, and a responsive one too.

At first he had assumed she was a local wench, but he's soon guessed she was Norman, probably one of the Dame Virgilia's women. Few English had the dusky tone to their from southern France or Spain lay in her somewhere.

Clever of her to stay silent and conceal it from him.

And she didn't understand English. If she did she would have reacted when he described all the wonderful things he wanted to do with her body, to her body. He laughed again. If she ever learned the language and remembered some of the things he'd said, she'd be after him with a gelding knife. He'd not even been able to steal a kiss for fear of her seeing him up close.

A huge, bearded man emerged from among the trees,"Taking your time, aren't you? Why are you grinning like a fool?"

"Just the pleasure of the swim, John," Robin said,"It's a joy to be clean again."

John was Robin's man, as well as his oldest friend, but he'd been appointed to attend Robin during his youthful visits to England. It had been John's idea, that they go around this part of England disguised as ragged outlaws. It was a dangerous plan but had proved useful. Though Robin of Locksley looked English and spoke the tongue, the English knew him for what he was, a Norman, an enemy. Very few knew him as the Golden Lion.

"Why do I think that answer has a duel meaning?" John asked.

"Ye of so little faith, John," Robin said as he shook his head and turned to lead the way to their camp.

"You've left your cloak somewhere," John said.

Robin grinned,"So I have. Hold on."

As he returned, Robin pressed his cloak to his face and smelled the same soft perfume he'd inhaled from her skin. Rosemary and verbana, perhaps.

John looked at him and leered. "So that's what took you so long. You must be a fast worker, lad, but was it worth the risk? I thought you didn't want anyone here catching sight of Robin of Locksley, Norman lord."

"She never saw me," Robin reassure him.

John slapped his knee and hooted with laughter,"By Gods, I should watch you in action sometime! Come on though, before her husband turns up with an ax."

Later that night, Robin was wrapped in the cloak from before, to ward off the night chill. Robin lay tangled in thoughts of the dusky maiden even as he sought sleep, He tried to turn his mind to plans of action, but they wove back to the curve of her hip, the silk of her hair, the heated perfume of her skin.

By all that was holy, it hadn't been that long since he'd had a woman!

He turned restlessly and pulled the cloak tighter. Wisps of verband and rosemary wrapped around him. He surrendered and allowed his mind the path it desired. Unfortunately their position had given him little more opportunity to see her features than she's had to see his, but the curve of her cheek was fixed in his mind, and he studied the back of her neck at leisure. Smooth, sun gilded skin over subtle flesh, warm and spicy on his tongue.

He stirred restlessly. These thoughts were not adding to his comfort. He rolled on his back and stared up at the stars. Damnit! It must have been too long since he'd had a woman if her was letting a mysterious wench rule his thoughts.

Robin awoke the next morning believing himself cured. He and John breakfasted on fish, bread, and water and set out. Robin was in the process of rolling up his cloak, when he muttered a profanity.

"You're like a hungry boar this morning," John commented.

"We should already be in court before the King," Robin complained.

John grinned,"Or back beneath a wench's skirts. Kept me awake last night you did with all that tossing and turning."

Robin laughed off the idea, but it was true. His ill temper was because of the unfinished business between him and a certain dusky maiden. If he'd had his pleasure with her, he'd doubtless not give her another thought. Well, they'd soon be in court, and Robin's plan on wedding the woman that Lord Blanchard wanted.

Leopold Blanchard, would one day die at Robin's hands, he had sworn on his sister's final resting place. Rose had been such a gentle soul, and how Leopold had treated his sister was something that would haunt Robin forever. Now, he had heard rumors that Leopold wanted to marry again, and was petitioning the King to marry this Lady Regina Mills. Robin would take this woman, make her his wife all to thwart Leopold's goal of wedding her himself.

He just hoped that he wasn't going to be tied to a whiny, simpering woman forever!

They traveled alert for every hazard, for these were poor times to be abroad in England. Because of this, as they walked along a ridge path, Robin quickly spotted a flash of white down near the stream. He halted, grinning. There she was again, and well away from yesterday's meeting place. He found her prudence appealing. He'd had thought less of her if he'd found her haunting the same spot.

"What's up?" John asked, moving his hand to his knife.

"A hind down by the stream," Robin said as he slid from his horse.

"We've no time for hunting..." then John found what Robin had seen. "Especially not that kind."

"I have a mind to meet with her face to face," Robin said.

John took a grip on Robin's sleeve,"Give her a good look at you boy, and she'll remember you another time."

"I doubt it. We see what we expect to see. Anyway, we're not likely to meet another time," Robin pulled free, pulling his cloak over his head to hide his appearance. He also checked his the sleeve of his shirt, to make sure his tattoo on his right forearm was hidden. That was always the thing most likely to betray him.

Robin slipped down the scrubby hillside toward the stream. He'd been well trained in woodcraft, and he was within feet of the girl without her being aware of him. She was nimble and graceful as she hopped across stones in the shallow stream, studying the water. She had both kirtle and shift tucked into her belt, and he relished the sight of her long, shapely legs. Her hair was bound today in a thick plait which swung heavily across her back. He imagined unraveling it and losing himself in the dark silken strands.

He deliberately stepped on a twig.

She jerked around, wide-eyed, a scream hesitating on her lips.

"Good day, Lady," Robin said.

John was right. He was mad! They couldn't even communicate unless he revealed his knowledge of French. She was as lovely from the front as he imagined, thought with a smooth complexion, dark eyes with long eyelashes over them, and soft, sweetly curved lips.

"Good day," she said with a horrendous accent.

"You speak English," he said approvingly.

It was the same voice, Regina thought with a thrill. And yet she was he was before her, a peasant in rags. His head partially covered by his green hood.

"I speak very little English," she said haltingly.

He stepped closer."Lucky then that I speak a little more French," His French was the coarse peasant tongue, but he seemed fluent.

Regina realized with a chill that she had revealed her nationality and she wasn't even sure he was her fairy prince. She saw his smile barely under the hood, it looked wolfish to her.

She backed away...

"Don't be afraid," he said,"What's your name?"

Regina was poised for flight, but something held her back. She knew, however, it could be dangerous to tell him who she really was,"Judith," she said.

"Don't run away, Judith. I won't hurt you," Robin promised.

Regina relaxed under the influence of that same soft, soothing voice. It was him. And there was something else reassuring. Something in his smile that she could see under the hood, just barely.

She realized it was his teeth. They were white and even, unlikely in a ragged peasant.

She smiled. He was in disguise. He was her faery prince, doubtless an English noble, traveling incognito. Once she'd framed this thought, it was amazingly easy to see through his disguise.

"I'm Robert," he said. She knew it was a lie but understood.

"How is it you know French?" She made each word clear and separate. She knew how hard it was to understand a foreign tongue when spoken quickly.

"I've traveled to France."

That argued high birth, she thought.

He spoke again,"Do you make a habit of wondering the woods alone, Judith?"

Regina glanced down the stream. The real Judith was just visible, the guard just out of sight. "I have friends nearby." It was a warning as well as information.

He followed her gaze, then took her hand to draw her away from the stream and behind a group of bushes. Heart pounding, Regina knew she should run. But didn't.

He rested his hands on her shoulders and smiled down at her,"I wanted to see you properly."

The hood muddled her vision of him,"I wish I could see you properly, too."

He went quiet, his smile slowly fading,"How have you survived in this harsh world, Judith? Don't worry, I won't harm you even if you do hold my life in your hands."

He gathered her hands together and dropped kisses into her palms, tickling them with warm breath that stirred something hotter inside her, something she recognized as taboo. Her conscience made her pull away, but when he tightened his hold to stop her, she did not persist.

His hands slide along her bare forearms, and inside the loose sleeves of her kirtle to her shoulders, rough skin and callouses against the softness of her skin. "Your skin is like the finest silk," he murmured,"You must know, though, my sweet Judith, that I cannot see you after today."

No one had ever touched her so intimately, and she was softening like wax on a hearth,"Why not?" she breathed.

"How can I risk it? You would know me for an outlaw, and tell your king," Robin said.

"No," Regina said,"I wouldn't."

His thumbs rubbed against her collarbones,"You should. It would be your duty."

"I would never betray you," she said.

He freed his hands of her sleeves and drew her close against his hard body. Her conscience cried the alarm. This was wrong. She should run. Now.

But she could surely stay just a little bit longer.

Greatly daring, she raised her hands to his broad shoulders, remembering them wet and beautiful in the sun. Her right hand found bare flesh at the nape of his neck and she cherished it, her fingers seeking the top of the valley of his spine.

"Ah, my beautiful wanton," his lips touched hers as softly as a kiss of peace, but this kiss brought turmoil, and her conscience gained control finally.

She snatched her hands away and used them to push him away,"I must go."

"Must you?" he loosened his arms,"Then fly away little bird. I won't stop you."

Contrarily, his words allowed her to muffle the alarm bells in her mind. He wouldn't hold her against her will, and she wanted to be kissed. No more than that, just a kiss.

Gathering her courage, she moved his hood back from his head, looking up at him and then touched her lips to his. He laughed and dropped kisses on her nose, and cheeks, and chin. Regina didn't want to reveal her ignorance so she copied him. She showered his face with little kisses.

He murmured approvingly and guided her lips to his, this time with a hand firming cupping the back of her head. His tongue came out to lick her lips.

Regina was startled, but she resolutely did the same. Her tongue met his, mobile and warm. His mouth opened, her mouth opened, his tongue entered to play.

Regina gave a little moan and stopped thinking. Her body hummed, and she leaned against his wonderful chest, strong as an oak, warm as a fire. His hand on her breast turned her legs to jelly. She collapsed completely against his mighty arm. He moved back and sat on a rock, pulling her onto his lap.

"Yes, darling, yes," he murmured in English.

Regina regained a scrap of sense and realized she'd had her kiss. It really was time to stop...

His mouth found her right breast. Regina stopped thinking again. His hands and mouth tormented her, and her body developed a mind of its own. Her hips turned to move against him. She closed her eyes.

Heat.

Ache.

There was a piercing ache between her legs covered suddenly by his hand. She moaned and moved against him, then stilled as she realized what was happening.

"No!" she cried and pulled away.

His hand clapped over her mouth. An arm like iron imprisoned her. She squirmed and kicked. "For Christ's sake, stay still!" he hissed, not wanting to alarm her friends of his presence.

She obeyed because she was helpless against his strength. She was panting and shivering as if she had a cold.

His hand eased off her mouth,"Let me go," she whispered,"please let me go."

She felt a shudder pass through him,"What's the matter?"

"I can't, this is a sin," she said as she pushed at his chest.

He stared at her and muttered something hot and angry in English. Then in French he asked tightly,"Are you by chance a virgin?"

Regina slowly nodded.

Slowly he released her and stood. His breathing was deep and unsteady,"How," he said,"did a bold armful like you remain a virgin at your age? What are you nineteen?"

"Eighteen," Regina pulled her skirts down and tugged at her bodice. He'd had her half naked."I'm sorry," he looked angry as as she spoke.

"Go back to your friends and take a lesson from this," he said.

She didn't like to part from him in anger,"I only wanted a kiss," she said.

He gave a laugh that sounded almost genuine,"Well you certainly had that. Go now."

Regina took a step away, then came back in spite of his forbidding look,"It was a very nice kiss," she said softly, then quickly fled.

Robin watched as she left. This encounter had been intended to exorcise her effect on him and leave him at peace. Now he wondered if he'd ever have peace again. His body hurt, and his mind was tied in knots.

He knew he had to forget her, and to put as much distance between them. And besides, nothing would have ever of come of this. For his future was set.

He would marry Lady Regina Mills!

 _She, she was his future!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**(A/U-Special thanks to Bekki for beta reading this, and to those who read, review, follow, fav this story.)**_

 ** _Warning for some violence against women..._**

Regina arrived at the palace as per King William's orders, he wanted her there to choose her future husband and wanted to be present for her wedding soon to follow. Today, the King had informed her that both her potential suitors were due to arrive this day.

Lord Blanchard was the first one to arrive,"Lady Regina, what a pleasure to be in your presence again." Leopold said as he walked up to her in the courtyard, and kissed her hand, his slimly tongue came out and licked her hand. She tried to grab it away but he was too quick and held it, until he was finished. Once she had her hand back, she wiped off his saliva off the folds of her dress.

"It's a fine day today, and I look forward to claiming a reward very soon," Lord Blanchard told Regina, his intentions quite clear.

"I'm sure you'll be rewarded for your service to King William," Regina said.

"I only crave one prize," Leopold said.

"I don't care to be thought of as a prize," Regina said defiantly.

He smiled. "I don't think of you like that. I've always been fond of you, Regina. You could do a lot worse than me for a husband."

Regina sighed, she had hoped to be able to avoid this so early.

"I will take King William's advice greatly into choosing between you and Lord Locksley," Regina said.

She caught a flash of anger in his eyes, and wondered what had triggered it. She didn't want to marry this man, that she knew. She hated the thought of being tied to him forever.

"Might we take a ride?" Leopold asked, knowing her fondness of horses.

"Of course," Regina said as moments later they were on their respectful horses and having a ride. A little into the ride, her horse started limping, "Something is wrong with him," Regina dismounted and started to check on her horse.

"I think he might have picked up a stone," Regina said as she looked up to see that Leopold had dismounted and was coming around her horse.

"Lord Leopold, what are you-"

He grabbed her.

Her cry was smothered by his wet lips and stale breath. She kicked and twisted to frighteningly little effort. Fear and suffocation made her head swim, and her clawing hands found only the tangling cloth of his cloak.

His lips released her, and she sucked in breath, to scream, but he pushed her down on the hard ground, landing on top of her so that only a squeak emerged as pain shot out from her spine and hip and shoulders.

Incredibly, he was grinning, "Come on, Regina, you know this is your future," One hand yanked at her skirts, "I'm going to make your decision for you."

She bucked under him, "Leopold, no!"

His grin just widened. Bile rose in Regina's throat. Frantic, she twisted and kicked, but his body was like a log on top of her smaller frame. His shoulder pressed on her face, making it difficult to breathe, never mind to scream.

Panic choked her. If he dishonored her, then she would be forced to wed him. Once it was done, would the king interfere? "Please God, help me..."

His smile switched to an ugly scowl. "Don't call on the saints," he snarled, struggling to manage both her clothes and his without giving her a chance to move or scream. "It's time you learned what your duty to me will be...Stay still, curse you! Learn what a woman's...for." His writhing freed one of her hands. "Hell!"

Regina wretched out her small knife she had stowed in one of her garters and stabbed him in the arm.

"You ungrateful little bitch!" He picked her up and slammed her hard onto the ground. The knife flew from her hand.

He was back on top of her and her skirt was now up high. His weight was full on her chest and she gasped for every breath.

"You need a lesson, Regina," Leopold exclaimed, refaced. "Once we're wed..."

Only half conscious, Regina felt a new wave of terror at the word. It brought back a new burst of strength. She writhed, shrieked. He pummeled and cursed.

He stopped.

His dead weight was crushing her. Then it rolled away. Sobbing and gasping air into her burning lungs, Regina saw a peasant leering at her exposed body from his horse. He was stocky and grizzle haired, with a beard.

"Don't be afraid," a voice said to her, to her right.

Regina stared at the new voice and looked down to see another man by Leopold's body. It wasn't surprising she'd missed him for he blended with the leafy earth attire he wore. Even his head was wrapped by a hood, that covered much of his face.

He stood and rocked Leopold with his boot, "He is not dead,"

With a gasp, Regina recognized him. Then doubted. Then saw blue eyes and was sure. She gave a little cry and hurled herself into his arms. He held her as she shuddered, choking back sobs. He was so strong and warm and safe. His hand gently comforted the back of her head. Then he pushed her away a little. "Do you want me to kill him?"

The other man said something sharply. She could tell he wanted them to move on.

"No," she said quickly. She just wanted them safe. "Go. Please."

"You should leave this place too," he said.

"My family is here, please just go," Regina said.

He showed no urgency. His hand reached out to cradle her neck and humor glinted in his eyes. "I wanted you about going about the country unescorted."

"He was my escort," Regina said with a disgusted look at Leopold.

"Truly a wolf sent to guard the sheep," He drew her gently to him.

Regina relished the comfort but regarded him in exasperation. Why didn't he flee? "You said you would not be here again. It's dangerous."

He traced her lips with a gentle finger and frowned. "You're swollen. I should kill him." Then, "I had business here. You did promise not to betray me."

"I won't," she promised him.

"I know. Shall I take the taste of him away?" he asked.

Regina sighed. "Yes, please."

He titled her chin and lowered his head.

He friend said something. Then Regina heard it. Horses!

"Go! Make yourself safe!" Regina pushed at him.

Still he hesitated. "Are you sure you'll be safe?"

She pushed harder, with all her strength. "Yes! Go!"

Like thieves they quickly disappeared into the forest, and Regina was alone with Leopold who was still unconscious. Her rubbery legs gave way, and she collapsed on the ground. She could feel bruises forming all over her body.

"Regina!" It was King William's head guard Graham, along with others.

"Leopold?" Graham asked as he dismounted, Leopold was just now coming to. "Who did this?" Graham asked.

"Outlaws, we were set upon by them," Regina answered as she looked at Leopold.

"Find them!" Graham ordered his men. Moments later the yelling men and their dogs were off into the wood, hunting new prey. Regina watched in horror. She had not intended that. But, she told herself, her outlaw was at home in the forest and would easily evade such clumsy pursuit.

Luckily for Robin and John, Regina's prediction came true. Graham and his men came nowhere close to capturing them. Still how close they had came to being caught, did not sit well with John.

"Why did you have to take a risk like that?" John asked.

"I couldn't watch a rape," Robin dent down and scooped up water to splash over his face and head, then shook the excess off. She was as beautiful as he remembered, as his dreams told him. He should have killed Lord Leopold Blanchard then and there. The mere thought of that fiend touching her...

"You're right," John said.

"She didn't deserve what he was about to do," Robin said, "no woman does."

"She's the little nymph you trysted with down by the stream, you mean," John said. "So who is she? Not some simple servant girl with a gown like that and gold bindings in her hair."

"No," Robin hadn't really considered her appearance until now. He gave a crack of laughter, "She must be the Mills heiress, and I almost rolled her by the stream that day. No wonder she screamed no."

"Well, you could do worse," John said.

"Worse than?" Robin asked.

"Rolled her by the stream, after you married her. No wonder Blanchard wants her so bad," John said.

Robin smiled as he thought of the shock she would receive when she found out he was the other suitor for her hand. He knew if they did marry, he would have to teach her to defend herself. Would she really have tried to hold them off with that little knife she had? He suspected she would. She was brave, if foolish, his dusky maiden.

"We should get cleaned up and get to the castle, we can't have anyone finding out that Lord Locksley is the Golden Lion as well," John said.

"There's a traitor in the village, and until we know which one, I'll need to keep a low profile," Robin said.

"Most of the people would die before they'd betray you. You're their hero," John said.

Soon enough they were on their way to the castle, as they neared it they passed by a group of villagers who looked very fearful.

"What goes on here?" Robin asked.

"Lord Graham and his men came and were searching for two outlaws in the forest nearby," a little boy explained.

"What happened to you?" Robin asked. An older woman approached.

"The destroyed many of our goods, and worse. Curse that bitch!" she spat sharply.

"A woman was here?" Robin asked.

"I can't understand everything she said, but I did understand, whip them, whip them she kept saying to Lord Graham," the woman said.

"Who was she?" Robin asked. It could be anyone, anyone but...

"It was Lady Phoebe's niece, Lord Locksley," the woman answered.

Robin shook his head, not believing it, "Dark hair, brown eyes?" he asked, praying the woman would say no.

She nodded.

He was chilled. What kind of woman was she, to do this? She knew these people were innocent. His heart turned against her as he thought of how she had fooled him.

Regina was in her bedchambers thinking of the day's event. Her body was stiff and sore from Leopold's abuse, her mind still reeling from the aftermath. Why had she told those fateful words to Graham? Why not say Leopold had been thrown from the horse?

Anything.

She had told Graham these people had nothing to do with the attack, but he hadn't believed her. He didn't really care. Someone must suffer for the attack on them. Regina had managed to persuade him to make do with a whipping instead. She had saved the men from the loss of a foot, the women and children from branding on the face. The villagers looked at her as if she was evil, when in fact she had only been trying to help them.

King William had told her that Lord Locksley was delayed but must certainly be on his way soon to meet her. Regina's mind was not on the man she knew she would have to wed, because there was no way she was going to be married to Lord Leopold.

She would kill herself first!

Her mind was plagued by worry about a few things, one was the people here not accepting her as they had not accepted her mother, as she was foreign born. She also feared for the Golden Lion. She prayed he was safe. She prayed he had managed to escape back into the shadows, and she also prayed she would meet him once more.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N-I want to thank a special friend Bekki for being an amazing beta, a great ear. Thanks so much boo. Also want to thank all who read, review, follow and fav.**_

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The next morning, Regina went to the chapel in the castle, praying for the safety of her outlaw, begging forgiveness at the same time for the treason of it, "Keep him safe, Savior," she whispered. "Guard him, please."

By noon there was word that a sickness was roaring through the already wretched village. Regina knew it was the near starvation of the people there that made them so vulnerable. The villagers had always refused Regina's attempts to act as a healer, but now she would not be put off. Summoning two guards, she went out among the people. They still glared at her, but she was growing competent in English, and she demanded that they speak to her. She gave them herbs and explained how they should be used to ease the vomiting. Once she saw a woman throw the medicine away and could have screamed. What was wrong with these people? She refused to give up. Even if they did not use her treatment, at least she knew she was doing her best. As she sat alone late in the solar tying bundles of herbs, a girl walked in and waited.

"Yes?" Regina said.

"Please, Lady. There's a child sick," the girl said.

"Which child?" Regina asked. Hoping this meant that she was finally being accepted.

"My brother," the girl answered.

"Where is he?" Regina asked.

"At our house. It's between the hall and the village, Lady. My father is a forester. My mother asks that you come, but without your guards, Lady. It must be secret or my father will throw the medicine away," the girl said.

It could be a trap, but Regina found it hard to believe that this girl meant her any harm. This could be her chance to show the people she was their friend. She gathered up her supplies and wrapped a cloak around herself.

"What's your name?" Regina asked.

"Tink," she answered as they started to leave the castle. Soon they stood before the hut at the edge of the woodland. As they neared, an older woman walked out, this must be Tink's mother.

"He's within," the woman said.

Somewhat hesitantly, Regina ducked through the low door and found herself in the typical house of a prosperous family. It was small but divided to give at least two rooms other than the one in which she stood. The walls were made of sticks well packed with clay, and there was a small window, open now to the sun, with shutters that could be closed to keep out the wind. The split log floor was swept clean, and a fire burned in the central stone hearth.

She looked around for the sick child and saw a man. The father? He stood looking at her, just a shadowy shape in earth colored clothes.

"Where is the child?" she asked, disturbed by the slight tremor in her voice.

"There is no child." Her heart leaped at that familiar voice. "You have been brought here to see me."

"Are you sick?" she asked, moving toward him.

He stepped back, away from her. Light from the fire, the roof vent, and the window illumined him. He was as dirty and ragged as before, with a hood shadowing his face.

"No," the coldness in his voice finally penetrated, stopping her. Menace weaved through the room with the smoke and caught her breathing. Logic said Robert wouldn't harm her. Instinct overrode logic.

"Then I am wasting my time," she said, and turned to escape. He grasped her arm.

"Take your hand off me!" She was as afraid for him as for herself. "Harm me and the wrath of God will fall on everyone here." Why does he hate me too? Why? Why?

"That's your way, isn't it, Lady? Punishment. Death." He dragged her close. She braced her hands to hold him away.

"What do you want?" she asked desperately.

"To see if your evil has marked you yet," he said.

Regina's heart shriveled. "What's the matter?" she cried. "I'm doing my best. I try to heal, and they throw my medicines away. I try to be kind, but no one sees it..."

"Too little, too late," he sneered. "Why are you trembling? Are you afraid for your skin, Judith? You should be. You have much guilt to explain."

She stopped struggling and raised her hands to his chest beseechingly. "Am I to be held responsible for everything done by the Normans in England?"

He looked at her, and she could swear his head began to lower to hers, but then he thrust her sharply away. "Oh no. You don't play those tricks on me twice."

Regina was fighting tears. She'd held his man in her dreams as her bulwark against cruelty and suffering. Now he was striking her as cruelly as if he used his fist. He turned to her. "Are you really trying to heal people?"

"Of course," she said quickly. Then she was filled with disgust that she was still so eager to please him when he was being so cruel to her. Had she no pride? What was he anyway? Just a ragged outlaw. She glared at him, but knew she was scrabbling for anger to cover to broken heart.

He picked up a bowl of water and thrust it at her, "Make your remedy."

She pushed it back, "Go to hell."

Some splashed over his hands, but it was still half full when he flipped the contents in her face. She gasped and spluttered, then he was holding a full bowl again. "Make your remedy," he was with exactly the same inflection as before.

Regina took the bowl.

She'd suffered worse in her life many a time than water in the face and her courage had remained unbroken, but here...here there were no ruled. He could scar her, blind her, maim her.

The water rippled with her fear as she placed the bowl beside the fire. She put one of her bundles of herbs in the pot and then used the tongs to add a hot stone. With a hiss the water heated and she stirred it. She glanced up warily. He was leaning against one of the sturdy posts, arms folded, watching her.

"It will be a few moments before it's ready," she said.

"I can wait," he said.

Wait he did. The silence played on her stretched nerves. She couldn't stand this. She had to know. "Why have you changed?"

"When we met before, you promised me a good roll," he said crudely, "You lied."

It was like a knife thrust. "And for that you turn against me? Turn the people against me?"

"Oh, you turned the people against you on your own," he said.

Now her anger was real. Such was her hero, a lout who sulked because she balked at giving him her virginity.

A flare from the fire highlighted him briefly. On his right forearm she saw his lion tattoo again. "Are you the one they call the Golden Lion?" she asked.

She saw him tense, "What if I am?"

She put a touch of malicious pleasure in her voice. "The King's first guard Graham plans on maiming and unmanning you and leave you in the village dust."

"My plans for him are my own," he said. "You should be more concerned for the people who you are working into the ground."

"I am seeking to heal their sickness!" she protested.

"There are so few," he echoed with grim humor. "Even the cruelest farmer learns to care for his beasts of burden. Eventually."

Regina looked at the brew, "The remedy is ready. Where is the patient?"

"Drink it." He said.

"Me? Why?" Regina asked.

He looked at her. She longed to hurl the medicine in his face but didn't dare, which was as bitter as the feverfew she had mixed into the brew. Stiffly, she raised the bowl and drank all of the foul tasting fluid.

"That was a waste," she said icily. "I don't have an endless supple of herbs."

He regarded her in silence.

"I'm not going to keel over dead, Saxon.

"I'll tell them they can use your medicine," he said as he walked past her toward the door. _I'll tell them_...these were her people. What right had he to stand there and pretend to be lord over her people?

"If I still care to give it," she said.

He swung back to face her. "You'll care, Lady, or you'll feel my anger."

"You dare not touch me. The king would flatten you," Regina said.

He sneered. "We shall see."

Regina stood for a moment fighting tears. She would not cry over a man who was so unworthy. He'd clearly told the truth. All he'd ever been interested in was her body. Her aunt had warned her it was always so. A bitter lesson, but one well learned. She stiffened her spine, gathered her herbs, and walked out into the sunshine, to face half a dozen pair of eyes. The glances quickly slid away. She soon found out why.

"I have a daughter sick," said one woman hesitantly. "She can't eat or drink."

Just because he gave permission. Regina was tempted to give curses instead of aid, but it would be a petty retaliation. It would put a black mark on her soul and destroy any chance of gaining the trust of her people.

And she wanted the trust of her people.

She followed the woman into the village. She visited four homes and showed the women how to make the remedy, leaving enough of the herbs to last two days. The situation in the village was horrendous. The children and the elderly were taking the sickness worst, and despise her help she thought one child would die. She hoped she wouldn't be blamed for it. The adults were recovering better, but she still gave them strengthening potions.

What they all needed was rest and more and better food. It was midsummer and there should be plenty, but their gardens were in poor condition because they did not even have time to weed and water them properly. Nor did they have time to go into the woods to pick berries and find wild plants.

She had no control until she was married, well her husband would.

She would take up her country explorations again and gather some of the most beneficial plants to pass on to them. She would try to find ways to ease their labor at the castle. As she made her way back to the castle, Regina was full of a new sense of purpose. To the devil with the Golden Lion. She would save her people herself.

Later that day Robin made his way across the forest to a camp that John had set up. His thoughts about Regina. It would seem she was trying to do some good, but that didn't warm his heart. Reversely was a ruin and its people were wretched. Her concern came far too late. It would have been more to the point to have fed the people and not overworked them, to have been easier with the whip, then they would not have succumbed to the pestilence.

He still had to meet Lady Regina Mills as himself as Lord Robin Locksley.

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Happy Halloween


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